


wings in the afternoon, evening, and other various times of day which are convenient for elliot

by platonic_boner



Category: The Turn of the Story - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonic_boner/pseuds/platonic_boner
Summary: Luke’s wings are useful for all kinds of things. They’re like a multitool. It’s a pity Elliot isn’t in control of them, because Elliot is full of ideas for how to use them.Elliot sets out to learn how to control them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironic_boner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironic_boner/gifts).



Luke’s wings are useful for all kinds of things. They’re like a multitool. Like an umbrella-blanket-aviation-intimidation multitool. It’s a pity Elliot isn’t in control of them, because Elliot is full of ideas for how to use them.

Elliot sets out to learn how to control them.

When Luke is sleeping seems like the best time, because Luke is unsuspecting and lying still in their tent with his shirt off and his back exposed. Elliot pokes at it. Elliot is allowed to poke at it because Luke is his boyfriend. (Elliot knows this because he and Luke had a Talk and _defined their relationship_. They are definitely boyfriends, boyfriends who have definite serious feelings for each other. Those feelings aren't relevant now though, because Elliot is not poking Luke to wake him up and physically express some feelings, he’s poking Luke as an _experiment_.)

It turns out that poking Luke anywhere in the back, or around his shoulder blades, is not enough to awake either Luke’s wings or Luke himself. Elliot tries stroking instead, briefly picturing Luke as one of Hagrid’s textbooks that open when you stroke the spine, but this theory also proves incorrect, although Luke makes a little noise of pleasure that makes Elliot want to keep stroking anyways. But he has a mission, so he keeps prodding at Luke in various ways until it becomes clear that nothing he does to Luke’s back, including whispering “open sesame!” to it, will make it drop the facade that it’s totally human and sprout its wings.

Elliot sighs, and it turns into a yawn. He admits - temporary! - defeat, even though it means he’s still in the dark as to how to control Luke’s wings, and he’s going to be spending the freezing cold night without the wing-blanket. He lies down beside Luke, cuddling close for warmth.

Luke wakes up about 10% of the way and wraps his arm around Elliot. “’re cold,” he mumbles, and then his wings are out and surrounding them both.

He’s fast asleep again before Elliot can even demand how he did it.

***

 

When Family Day comes around again, Elliot is obviously going to spend the whole day with Luke and his family, because they are awesome, and have awesome judging people skills, and therefore realize Elliot is awesome. Well, most of them. As long as the cousins weren't invited.

He's on his way over when he trips over a small child. It's not his fault - she's very short and she quite suddenly darted out from behind him. He tries to save her from being flattened, but only succeeds in making them both tumble over. 

"Ow!" the small child says, and glares at Elliot.

"That was at least as much your fault as it was mine," Elliot says, then belatedly wonders if she is old enough to take such harsh truths, or if she will start crying. She looks about five or six. Elliot isn't sure what that means, in terms of the likelihood of tears.

Another small child - this one a boy - runs up to her and drops into the grass beside her. "Are you all right, Violet? Should I kiss it better?" 

Elliot snorts. "Aren't you a little young for kissing?"

Violet says, "He's my _boyfriend_." She looks derisively at Elliot and adds, "Not that _you’d_ know what a boyfriend was, because you're _mean_ , and nobody would go out with _you_."

Well. At least there weren't tears. "Excuse you," Elliot says. "I _do_ have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, well, my boyfriend's better," Violet says.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Too."

"Not - HEY!"

Elliot is pretty sure Violet only fell for that because she's like six, but he feels supremely satisfied nonetheless. He smirks, feeling like he has clearly won.

Violet is not admitting defeat. "Does _your_ boyfriend know how to fight with a sword?"

"Yes," Elliot says. "From all accounts, he is very good at the stabbing and things. Definitely better than yours. Although that is not much of a challenge, seeing as he is very small."

Violet is clearly not pleased by this response. "Does he know how to play Trigon? _My_ boyfriend is the school champion."

"My boyfriend got asked to play on the national team," Elliot brags.

"Yeah well, I bet he can't climb trees as high as my boyfriend!" Violet says.

"He doesn't have to," Elliot says smugly. "Because he has _wings_."

Violet dissolves into giggles. "Your boyfriend is imaginary!"

"He is not!"

"Is too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Am I interrupting something?" says Luke, from far above where Elliot is still sprawled on the ground.

Elliot grins hugely and points up at Luke's gorgeous face and yells, " _Ha!_ Is not!"

Violet crosses her tiny little arms and demands of Luke, "Are you really his boyfriend?"

"Um. Yes," Luke says. "Yes, I am, we are boyfriends."

Violet looks slightly defeated.

Elliot can do better than that - Elliot can do _crushed_.

"Show her your wings," he says.

"What?" Luke says.

"Wings!" Elliot repeats.

"No?" Luke says. "Why are you lying in the grass arguing with a six year old? My parents are waiting for you, you know."

"How about you show us the wings, and then I'll answer your odd and intrusive questions," Elliot suggests.

"How about not that," Luke says. "I'm sorry if he was bothering you, we'll go now," he says to Violet, which is very rude of him, because Elliot has not yet won this argument.

"Wings," Elliot coos. "Wings, come out, come out, wherever you are."

Luke looks very disapproving.

Elliot really needs to learn to control those things, because Luke does not understand Elliot’s priorities. For now, Elliot gets comfy in the grass. “I’m not moving till you show us the wings.”

Luke heaves a sigh. “You’re completely ridiculous and you’re lucky I like you,” he says, as his wings unfurl from his back.

Violet squeals with delight and Luke whacks him in the head with a bunch of feathers, but it's totally worth it.

***

Elliot was wrong.

The important - crucial; nay, paramount - task to learn in controlling Luke’s wings was not making them appear, but making them _go away_.

“Luke, I realize we do not live in a world where there are laws about driving while impaired,” Elliot says. “There is no driving! Except, like, maybe carriages? But then the horses are in charge, kind of. Whatever. The point is, drunk driving is bad, and I really think drunk flying would be worse.”

Elliot is standing behind Luke and trying to shove the wings back into Luke’s back, even though he can’t figure out how they are supposed to go back in, and however it works, it definitely breaks the laws of physics. So, Elliot is trying very hard to break the laws of physics in the interest of saving Luke’s life and/or his pretty face, and Luke is having none of it. He turns around (narrowly missing thwacking Elliot in the head with his wings) to face Elliot.

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Luke says, like Elliot had not seen him dancing on a table half an hour ago. Luke’s sister had boosted him up and Luke had not even protested. Elliot therefore does not fall for his lies, because Luke had to be _very drunk_ to not protest that.

“Okay, think,” Elliot says to himself. “What is the wing equivalent of taking someone’s keys? Do I tie you to a tree? Maybe put you in lead shoes like that children’s book?”

They are both excellent ideas, Elliot thinks, but neither of them is going to work, because he has neither lead shoes nor a rope with him, and Luke is already taking off.

Elliot launches himself into the air and manages to grab onto Luke’s waist. He gets a mouthful of feathers and a grounded Luke for his trouble.

“No,” he says sternly to Luke. “No flying. Put them away.”

“But I want-”

“No,” Elliot says.

“But-” Luke says, and his wings are not yet tucked invisibly away, so Elliot decides to bargain.

“Put them away or else I won’t pet them for a week,” Elliot says, though privately he thinks this is a threat he could never keep, but hopefully Luke will not call his bluff.

Luke pouts and whines but the wings fold up almost immediately, and that and Luke’s slumped shoulders make him look small and quite pathetic. Elliot takes pity on him: he throws an arm around him and doesn’t call him a loser once on the entire walk home.

Elliot is glad this close call was avoided, but he makes a mental note that he _really_ needs to learn to control Luke’s wings asap.

***

Elliot is done with the woods.

Luke used words like “romantic” and “secluded” and “we’ll have lots of fun - ugh stop leering at me like that!” and somehow managed to convince Elliot that traipsing about in the woods for a week with a bunch of war training cadets was a good idea. Elliot is ashamed of himself for being so gullible.

True, the words were - briefly - not terrible. Luke pitched their tent far enough away from the others that it seemed like they were totally alone. The food was good - if Elliot ignored where it came from - and the weather was good - if Elliot stayed under the wing-brellas - and the real reason Elliot agreed to come on the trip (the fun, romantic, secluded activities in their tent, if you know what Elliot means) was excellent, unconditionally. All in all, it really wasn’t terrible - until it’s time to pack up and join the other cadets to head back to the Border camp.

“Who’s got the map?” asks Luke.

There’s some shuffling and sideways glances amongst the other cadets.

That is not a good sign. That map is Elliot’s ticket out of here. And yes, it may have been okay so far, but Elliot is hitting his limit for length of time away from hot baths and real beds and “What have you illiterate fools gone and done with the map?” Elliot demands.

“Well, it’s been raining all week,” a titchy cadet says.

Luke puts a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “I’m sure nobody will blame anybody if the map got a little water-damaged, right, Elliot? Because that would be nobody’s fault, right, Elliot?”

“…Right,” Elliot says. “ _Did_ the map get water-damaged?”

“Sort of the opposite,” the cadet says.

Elliot suggests with his face that the cadet elaborate.

“It got fire-damaged.”

“You burned the map?” Elliot demands. He turns to Luke. “They _burned_ the _map_.”

“The firewood was all wet, we needed something to start the fire!” the cadet tells Luke pleadingly.

“You-!” Elliot says, and would start yelling insults, except Luke wraps his arm around Elliot’s head and covers his mouth with his palm.

“What’s done is done,” Luke says, ignoring Elliot licking his palm. At least he sounds appropriately disappointed in the map-burning heathen cadets, and they look very ashamed to have a Sunborn disappointed in them. “We’ll just have to find the way back by ourselves. It’ll be a good exercise in navigation, anyways.”

Elliot so horrified by the idea of wandering about lost in the forest that it takes him several moments to start protesting when Luke wipes saliva down the side of his face.

*

Elliot thinks he should be commended for lasting four whole hours of wandering aimlessly and listening to Luke try to explain how to navigate to the cadets who keep getting them lost. But he is not putting up with this any longer.

“First of all,” Luke says, “It’s been an hour and a half, how have you not learned to tell time from the sun by now? And second, what’s your alternative, then?”

“We can fly,” Elliot says. “We are not actually that far away from the camp! As soon as you get us high enough we’ll be able to see exactly where it is, and I know you can fly that far.”

“Yes, but I can only carry one, maybe two people.”

“You only need to carry one person,” Elliot says, and he points to himself with both hands. “Me.”

“I can’t just abandon everyone!” Luke says.

“Why _can’t_ we abandon the map-burning fools?” Elliot demands. “They deserve it. Besides, they’re all trained in wandering about the forest and whatnot, I know you people learn things like that.”

Luke looks like he is considering Elliot’s points, which is excellent.

“Besides,” Elliot says. “The sooner we get back to camp, the sooner you can take a bath. Which would be good.”

“You don’t smell very good, either!” Luke retorts.

“Great,” Elliot says. “It’s a deal. You’ll fly us back to camp, and then we’ll have a nice hot bath.” Elliot waggles his eyebrows, to make sure Luke gets the implication that they can share the bath.

Luke turns red and mumbles, “Fine, let me just tell someone.”

“I’m sure they don’t need to know about our bathing arrangements!” Elliot calls after him. 

Luke flips him off.

***

That night, after their bath, Elliot is lying in Luke’s bunk (so warm, so soft). He’s very tired, but hasn’t drifted off to sleep yet, and in the meantime is amusing himself by occasionally sniffing himself and saying, “I smell so _good_.”

“Stop _doing_ that, it’s weird,” Luke says.

Luke is lying right beside Elliot, so Elliot turns his face to sniff Luke instead. “Mmm, you smell pretty good too, but I smell better.”

“I don’t think you can even smell yourself,” Luke says. “Isn’t that a science-thing you told me once?”

“But I _can_ smell myself _right now_ ,” Elliot says. “I smell like soap and civilization. Well, relatively speaking. What counts for civilization on this side of the Border. The point is, I smell good, so clearly you are not right.”

“Clearly,” Luke says.

Elliot pats Luke’s head to take away the sting from being told he’s wrong.

“Luke, my flower, my love?”

“... What?”

“How do you wing?”

“Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, but daddy is away on campaign and mommy has needs - ”

“No, Luke, that is not what I want to know!! Do not talk to me about your parents’ sex lives while I am in bed with you, I have already been scarred enough by them!!”

Luke snorts. “What _do_ you want to know, then?”

“I mean, how do you go from ‘I would like to fly away now’ to actually doing it?”

“I dunno, how do you go from thinking you’d like to move your arm, to actually doing it?” Luke asks. 

“But your wings are more magical than arms,” Elliot argues. “Surely it’s more complicated.”

“Nope,” Luke says. “Why are you asking weird questions?”

Elliot sighs. “I’ve been trying to control your wings,” he admits. “They have so far been impervious to my charms.”

“What?” Luke asks. “Why?”

“Well,” Elliot says, “You know, that time you were drunk and were insisting on flying anyways - it would have been very helpful! And sometimes I need them to solve transportation issues-”

“Like today.”

“-or to win arguments with innocent small children-”

“Like Family Day.”

“-or to keep me warm-”

“Like every night ever.”

“Yes! See, there are so many reason I need to use your wings. I really think we should work out a way for me to control them.”

“Uh-huh,” Luke says. “You know, all those times have something in common.”

“Yes, weren’t you listening, they are all times I needed to control your wings!”

“ _And_ , they’re all times when you got what you wanted,” Luke says. “You don’t need to figure out how to control my wings, because-”

“Because I already _do_ control the wings.”

“Not what I was going to say,” Luke mutters.

“I’m _magical_ , I’m the _wing-speaker_ , they do everything I say!” Elliot beams. “I am the _wing-master_.”

“Shut up,” Luke groans. “Will you just shut up and go to sleep?”

Elliot grins. “Fine,” he says, shoving his pillow into the proper shape and cuddling into Luke. 

“Wing me,” he orders, and giggles madly as he’s enfolded by feathers.


End file.
